This is Your Song
by redkel
Summary: Wasn't there MORE to season 4 than we actually saw on screen? Of course there was! So here's how things really happened. Will Daniel and Betty get it right? Let's start at the beginning - shall we?


**This is Your Song...**

**Note:** I don't own anything – who do you think I am, a Meade? If I did, the show would still be on. I've written before for other fandoms, but this is my first UB fic. Real life has gotten in the way of my writing, so I'm taking a note from Betty's blog. Intended as a series of fill-in-the blanks for season 4 and beyond. I'm starting with Butterfly Effect and working my way through. If there's a particular scene you'd like to see filled in, let me know -- I'm open to suggestions. The ultimate goal is DETTY and I'll get there – eventually. :-)

**You**

_Words have been drained from this pencil_

_Sweet words that I want to give you_

_And I can't sleep...I need to tell you -- goodnight_

_When we're together, I feel perfect_

_When I'm called away from you, I fall apart_

_All you say is sacred to me_

_Your eyes are so blue...I can't look away_

Betty Suarez, MODE Magazine's newest Associate Features Editor was worried. Her recently widowed boss, no – strike that, her former boss had disappeared into the unknown regions of Tibet. He was honoring his late wife's wishes by spreading her ashes there and Betty hadn't heard from him in almost three weeks. This morning she was taking a break from her newly acquired editorial duties to clean out her old desk and ready the office for her replacement; whenever Daniel got around to hiring one.

The noon hour found her sitting alone in Daniel Meade's office. The normally buzzing Co-Editor in Chief's office was eerily silent, the huge stack of mail looking orphaned on the desk. His empty chair seemed to mock her. _He's gone – you're on your own now. What if he doesn't want to come back to me...to MODE?_ His last words to her before the Town Car took him to the airport were laced with defeat and helplessness. "I don't know about anything anymore, Betty. I'm just so tired of the pain. Does it ever go away?"

Betty's heart broke for him that night almost two months ago. The way he had run out of the MAMA's, as if he knew what would be waiting for him at home. His text to her was stark – just an I NEED YOU, and his follow-up phone call was unintelligible. She found him on the steps of Molly's apartment, heart-broken and in shock.

The first weeks that followed Molly Meade's funeral were dark days. Daniel stayed at his childhood home with his Mother, Claire Meade. Betty tried to be a good friend – helping him with phone calls, arrangements, dealing with the press and keeping him occupied with meaningless, but necessary tasks so he wouldn't dwell on his loss.

But four days after her funeral, he came to MODE. He stepped out of his car to a barrage of camera flashes and questions. "How are you coping, Daniel? Is it true that Molly committed suicide?" The defeated look on his face was splashed on page six the very next day, with a tabloid like headline. The paparazzi had practically camped out on the sidewalk outside of Molly's apartment, his Mother's house and there was even one particularly annoying so-called reporter stalking the Suarez front stoop in Queens.

Daniel spent a total of 40 minutes in his office, aimlessly walking around – looking out the window at the skyline, absently fingering pieces of paper, sitting down and staring into space until Betty and Claire called for a car and promptly escorted him to the loading dock to avoid the jungle of press that had multiplied since his appearance. Score one for Meade Security.

He went home to his empty Soho loft and locked himself away from everything and everyone. He stopped taking phone calls, lost weight from too little to eat and too much to drink. He stopped shaving. Betty gave him time, but after two weeks – enough was enough.

Betty let herself into the apartment and found him in much worse shape than after Sophia had dumped him on national television. He was broken. She fixed him a decent meal and let him cry and talk – most of it nonsense. Over the next few days they watched movies and she bounced article ideas off of him. The dullness in his eyes slowly faded and his blue gaze became clear once again, but still undeniably sad.

When he made the decision to go to Tibet almost four weeks after Molly's death, she wasn't surprised. She was actually proud of him for taking steps toward closure. Now, three weeks later – she wondered if or when he would re-emerge.

Betty knew he was grieving, but she worried none-the-less about his state of mind and just which Daniel would return from Tibet – posey Daniel, man-whore Daniel, Daniel 2.0, or an all-together new Daniel. She was afraid that Daniel 2.0, her caring, generous friend and confidant may have been swallowed by his grief and pain over losing his wife. The changes that Molly had wrought in him were wonderful, yet terrible. Daniel had been unafraid of giving his heart and he was rewarded with just a few short months with his bride. Fate was cruel sometimes. _God, I miss him..._

"I miss him too," Claire Meade interrupted her morose thoughts.

"Mrs. Meade," Betty exclaimed – clearly wiping away a tear. "I was just..." _This was Daniel's MOTHER. What must she think of me?_

"Hi," Claire simply stated.

"Hi," Betty replied, giving up her attempted cover up.

"He'll come back when he's ready," his Mother told her.

"I know....it's just – I worry about him. I know you do too, of course," she quickly amended. "But..."

"But nothing, Betty. That's what friends do for each other – they worry and fuss and love and argue. Daniel is lucky to have you in his life. His so-called friends over the years have only been interested in riding on his coat tails...his very rich coat tails," she added.

"Oh but...I would...never," Betty started – only to be interrupted.

"Oh, God – Betty, I know you're not like that! I was just saying, rather badly I might add, that I'm so glad that Daniel has you. You are a rare and precious jewel, my dear."

"Oh," was her only reply. "Thank you."

Claire knew there was more going on than just worry for her son, but she it go...for now. She was concerned for this amazing young woman. She was normally so with it, but today she seemed -- lost. "How are YOU doing, Betty?

"I'm fine," she assured her, unconvincingly.

Claire Meade was unconvinced. "Hmmm, yes – starting a new job -- working for your ex-boyfriend. I can see how that would leave you fine," she intoned sarcastically.

"Well, I WILL be fine. I just need to find some allies."

"And how's that going," inquired Claire.

"Um, well -- I put Mark in the hospital," Betty told her.

"That was you?" The Meade matriarch reached over and high-fived Betty and they shared a chuckle and conspiratorial wink as they spun 360 degrees in their chairs. The high-five action was so like Daniel that Betty's heart clenched momentarily.

Betty felt the need to defend herself. "Not on purpose!"

A comfortable silence fell between them. Betty was the first to speak. "It's just all so new and a bit scary, you know? It's what I've always wanted – being an editor, but there are so many changes... And with Daniel gone..."

"The only constant in our lives is change, Betty," Claire told her wisely. "You may not like it at first, but I've learned that not all change is bad. Give it a chance. You might just be surprised at the direction your life may take."

"I know. I'm just not sure I'm ready for the total effect being an editor is going to have on my life."

"What about Matt? How's that situation," Claire asked.

"He's just been so cold. It makes me wonder if he ever had feelings for me to begin with," Betty answered in a hurt tone.

Claire nodded as she noticed Matt's Father, Cal Hartley beckoning her with a pointed glance at his watch. "He wouldn't be here if he didn't. Trust me - I know a thing or two about Hartleys."

Betty shook her head in disagreement. "Well, he doesn't want to talk to me about – so it really doesn't make a difference."

"Those feelings are still there," Claire said, standing and smoothing her skirt. "You just have to find a way to bring them out," she offered sagely. Claire left Betty to ponder those words of advice as she stepped out the door to practice what she just preached.


End file.
